Two months later, here we are.
Two months later, work is work.
Two months later, I can start at the beginning, and convince myself it's where I belong.
Two months later, I can say I'll be happy when.
And two months later, I know I'm lying.
There is no happy when. There's NOW. But it isn't happy now, or unhappy now. It's just now. Now we are busy. Now we are curious. Now we are hustling. Now we are hungry. Now we are tired. Now, we are tired.
There is only today. Anxiety about tomorrow and regret about yesterday are simply distractions from today. This I know, deeply and with a connection to my body and soul. It pulses through me as an electromagnetic current of truth. And I listen to it, I feel it, but I still can't always separate from it.
I think the state of being, my most common physical condition, is doing. The inverse of that, though it shouldn't be, is undoing. And it's my second state. Doing something. And then undoing it. Braiding and unbraiding. Write, re-write. Erase, re-record. It speaks volumes about my mental condition. We want to be happy. But really, I'd argue we want to be satisfied. Sated.
Satiety. Being full. Our desires met. Our appetite fulfilled. What do we want? Do we know half the time? Do we simply fill up on bread because we can't feel that we need water? We can't feel the difference? Or can we feel it, but we ignore it. If we pursue Satiety, and achieve it, then what? Is there a latent fear of failure? Or is it of success?
What happens when we become collaborators to our own desires, and begin to manifest their arrival? The doing. Then the undoing. This rabbit hole makes me believe that we might be computer simulations. Because it's an easier answer than, we are all a little bit broken.
I wish I broke my arm, but never broke my heart.
Be better. Do better. Wake up. Undo it, question what you know, doubt who you are, resign to thoughts of inadequacy, resolve to be better, define your own resilience, set goals, stand taller, stride forward, begin to do, go to bed, and snuggle into the rabbit hole.
I'm doing just fine. I always am.
Doing. And undoing.